The Young Construction Worker

The young construction worker

asked the older construction worker,

“¿Al lado?”

 

Ah, I was jealous.

The young man,

just becoming a man,

young.

His honorable work.

He and the older man had a familiarity with each other.

There was a hierarchy

but the hierarchy itself

hinted at a deep and loving bond

larger than two men.

 

The young man was deferential and humble to the elder,

which did not indicate weakness

but rather made the youth more venerable and dignified.

It indicated his path,

rites along a definite road to maturity,

learning how to be part of something bigger than himself,

something alive but older than any living individual,

something that he is gradually taking responsibility for,

ensuring its patterns

of love and survival

will continue to be woven,

long after his body has dissolved.

 

The young man

looked so bright and hopeful,

earning a living,

maybe in love,

maybe excited to start a family,

 

a most precious piece contributed

from each of two ancient families,

who are now moving together,

gathering around as a new living shape is born

into the great mosaic,

lawfully shifting the sacred geometry

of family and eternity.

 

I was so happy for him but,

ah, I was so painfully jealous

as I walked past them

on my way home

alone.

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